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Self-baptismal in just-thawed lake I had just enough strength to break the surface of, watch the ice shatter like that which gave birth to you: the mirror. You swore to be my eternal blue, and my skin now swears by the same hue, lake draining into a trickle of a stream that, if followed, will drain into Yewiffe, into a root of midnight hands and walking home from shift at the grill wondering, what if I, feral, disappeared into those lonely snow-blanketed lands that bordered me at every...